


Fame

by Xxmooncatch



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Anorexia, Depression, Just Friends, M/M, Not a Love Story, Slow Burn, This is my first fanfic so it might not be, Thomas is sort of a superstar I guess?, but if you see them as lovers it's fine, modern time, or meant to be angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:23:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9238871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xxmooncatch/pseuds/Xxmooncatch
Summary: Thomas was well-known, he knew that and never let people forget it but fame can ruin a person quickly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god this is my first ever fanfiction so it's probably going to be really bad.

Thomas Jefferson was a well-known man and he bragged about it often. James was the poor victim that had to hear his stories of fame and wealth, he could tell Jefferson's whole life in chronological order by now. Along with fame came consequences and those consequences were things such as having a fully booked timetable that he no longer had time to spend with James. James didn't mind, in all his honesty he loved it, he now had peace to finish work he missed from staying off sick without worrying about interruptions. It had been a whole month of work for James and without Thomas by his side he had to talk to Alexander Hamilton, he even had to go to dinner at his house. Now Alexander was insufferable but his wife, Eliza, was wonderful. She was kind and from the small amount of time James talked to her he wondered how Hamilton managed to get such an amazing woman to love him. Now James was sitting in his office, he didn't have any work to finish and the realisation of just how lonely he was had finally settled in. He considered phoning Thomas, find out where he was and what he had been doing for the past month but decided against it, the man was busy enough and he didn't need the extra hassle of James phoning him taking precious time out of his life when he could be finishing work. James sighed, starting to stand up when his mobile buzzed against the wooden table, jumping slowly towards the edge. Now, James knew Thomas' new friends he just didn't talk to them, they were too obsessed with themselves for his liking, so getting a text from one of them at nine in the morning asking 'hv u seen Tommy?' was a new, and rather concerning, experience. He decided to text a short answer of 'no' and leave it at that, never to hear from them again when they actually phoned him. He slowly clicked the answer button and pressed it to his ear.   
"Hello?"  
"Jamie!" The shrilled shriek of the woman on the other end said with faked happiness, she couldn't even get his name right. "How good to hear from you, how have you been? We haven't talked for ages!"   
James grumbled to himself, not caring if she heard. He didn't answer her questions and instead responded with "What are you calling me for?"  
The call went quiet making James wonder if she had ended the call out of shock when he heard the soft sigh. "Have you heard from Thomas? He hasn't answered any of our calls, we're wondering if you knew what he was doing."  
"I haven't heard from Thomas for about a month now, how would I know where he is"  
"Well can you maybe go check on him? Since you're closest to his house?" It was a sarcastic answer, exactly what James hated about Thomas' friends.   
"I don't know where he lives" This conversation needed to end, James was already bored of her.  
"He didn't move house though, so will you PLEASE go check on him."   
James stopped. Thomas was living in the same house, in the same town and didn't once bother to see James? Not to even say 'hi'? Anger started to boiled inside him and with a short, snappy reply of 'yeah, okay' he hung up and walked out the door. A 20 minute walk. That's all it was. He thumped up the steps and knocked his fist against the door. He felt like an idiot, standing on someone's doorstep, battering the door and breathing heavily, slightly out of breath but mostly out of anger. When the door was finally unlocked he pratically rammed into it. James Madison had been sick for most of his life so the fact he managed to open a door being held by Thomas Jefferson, a muscular man, was something he would applaud himself for later but right now he was angry, and nothing could stop anger.   
"Thomas, would you like to tell me why I get a call from one of your friends at 9 in the morning asking me where you've been? You didn't even tell me you still lived here! I haven't heard from you for a month Jefferson, A month! And I just figure out NOW that you're still living here?" James rant was brought to an end, huffing loudly. Thomas didn't say anything just sat on the floor staring at his feet with his legs hugged to his chest. As his temper dropped he realised that shoving the door open must have pushed him to the floor. James looked around, the curtains weren't closed so the morning light shone brightly into the room. It felt stuffy and the room was covered in dust. The house smelt horrible, the scent of vomit overpowering with the mixture of the unclean air. On the table a dirty spoon and what looked like a mouldy yoghurt sat together. What caught James' attention most was the empty bottles of vodka layed out around the sofa, there didn't seem to be a glass or anything to actually mix the vodka with lying around meaning that Thomas would have drank it straight from the bottle. Thomas. James had forgotten Thomas was in the room and looked back at him. He tried not to cringe at the sight of him. His usual bouncy, curly hair now lay more flat and oily, his body was reduced to nothing except skin and bone and his eyes looked glassy, bloodshot and lifeless. As Thomas looked up at him James smiled awkwardly.  
"I'm sorry" It was quiet but definitely there.  
"It's okay Thomas, I should probably apologise about the door. You should really answer your phone though, your friends are worried about you"   
"I don't want to talk to them right now" Thomas finally made an effort to stand up, heading over to a small fridge filled with old, mostly inedible, food. Rummaging around for a while, James looked over his body, cringing to himself at the sight of his skin practically clinging to his bones giving him the figure of a dead person than an actual living being. When Thomas had stopped going through the fridge he walked over to the sofa and sat down, opening a beer and gulping it down. James sat next to him.  
"So if you aren't talking to your friends what are you doing?" The question left James mouth awkwardly before he could actually think about it. Thomas just shrugged.  
"Not much I guess just, y'know, work" Thomas smiled slightly but James could see right through the lie. He thought for a minute, he couldn't force Jefferson to talk to his friends, he knew how annoying they could get, but he didn't want Thomas locked away in his house forever either (James already felt depressed and he'd only stayed for 10 minutes imagining Thomas in here for the rest of the year would surely drive him insane!).  
"Would you like to stay at my house and work then?" Thomas lowered the bottle from his lips and looked at James, making him shy away slightly. Why did he have to ask stupid questions all the time? Of course Thomas wouldn't want to stay with him, he wanted to be alone. A small smile appeared on Thomas' face, his now yellowish teeth ruining the smile but it still looked genuine.   
"Yeah, I'd like that..."


End file.
